


Flashes

by mugwortmarrow



Category: Bleach
Genre: 5 + 1 structure, Established Relationship, M/M, No porn & No plot, Onlooker Perspective, Post-Series, Sex Gone Wrong, mild bondage, snapshots of a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugwortmarrow/pseuds/mugwortmarrow
Summary: Five onlooker perspectives and one insider point of view on Grimmjow’s relationship with Ichigo.5 + 1 structure, snapshots of a relationship. POV characters tagged.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	Flashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sayhitoforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayhitoforever/gifts).



> This was originally supposed to be domestic grimmichi fluff. The more I wrote, the further I strayed from my original plans. And now we have whatever this is. 
> 
> Dedicated to the talented Hito, if you haven't read her fics I highly recommend them. 
> 
> Proofread by Saramir to whom I am eternally grateful. ❤

* * *

_“Where is he? Where is Kurosaki?”_

 _“We can never settle our score if I let some quincy fuck kill him first.”_

 _“I’m not here for you, you insolent fool.”_

* * *

They were far beyond the dirty, dusty, districts of Rukongai. This hunt had led them deep into the forest. Without shunpo it would take over a week to reach the outskirts of district 80. The prey the twelfth had let loose — on accident, Akon claimed — couldn’t have been more perfect. The modified hollows had been able to fool even his senses enough that they were able to draw out the chase. Now they had reached the perfect spot. A clearing at the bottom of a cliff. The rockface would make keeping the herd together easier and lack of trees gave his companions more room to enjoy themselves.

“You two take the left flank,” Yumichika instructed as he flared his reiatsu. In a series of small bursts, he allowed Ruri’iro Kujaku devour the energy the hollows used to reflect their surroundings and hide their spiritual pressure. It was child's play. The amounts his Captain leaked — and Yumichika absorbed — subconsciously were higher than this. So there was no need for a shikai, no need to divulge secrets just to smoke out a few rats. He politely allowed his comrades to attack first, before choosing a prey of his own. Upsides of small hunting parties included that there was no need to squabble over targets.

Yumichika slid Ruri'iro Kujaku between the ribs of his opponent and in a fluid, upward movement cut the entire beast in two. Smelling and tasting the splattering blood and reiryoku, just before the being dissolved into the air. Prior to the Blood War, he had sometimes wondered which cruel god had decided that the set the price for salvation was a violent death at the edge of a zanpakutō. He didn’t wonder anymore. Another graceful movement rid the blood from the blade before Yumichika sheathed his weapon.

It was a beautiful day and a beautiful raid. The sun was shining from a clear sky, unadulterated nature blossomed all around them and there was a temperate breeze in the air. For a moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Yumichika allowed himself to savour the crackling in the air. The electric buzz of Grimmjow’s azure reiatsu (Ruri'iro Kujaku adored it and would have liked a taste). The unique torrid pressure emanating from Ichigo. The fiery, salty taste of Ikkaku’s killing intent. It all swirled deliciously in the air. The atmosphere was saturated with power. With passion. Thrill. Pure joy of the hunt. It couldn’t have been more lovely-

“Too slow Kurosaki!” A brash cackle rang as a cero split the air right next to Yumichika’s ear. Scratch that. It could have been more lovely. It could be just Ikkaku and him.

“No fair! You used a fucking cero, of course that’s faster!” Yumichika pinched the bridge of his nose and watched as Ichigo completely ignored a smaller hollow next to the one vaporised by Grimmjow’s cero. Instead the boy chose to lunge at the arrancar. Grimmjow didn’t answer, just laughed as he evaded. Soon what was supposed to be Ichigo and Grimmjow taking care of the left flank devolved into an elaborate — and bloody — game of tag. Yumichika wasn’t able to remain thoroughly annoyed, because the two were enjoying each other so much. But he found himself thankful that he wasn’t _really_ their superior officer.

“They’re like kids,” Ikkaku’s dry voice caught his attention. For a moment Yumichika was disappointed he hadn’t seen his partner finish — it was always glorious when Ikkaku finished, an enemy or otherwise —, but he didn’t dwell on it. There would be more fights. If the right bribes were offered, there would even be more of these kinds of hollows.

“I am fairly certain that the Captain-Commander ordered Akon to release these hollows when he found out Ichigo entered the Dangai,” his voice was dry and even though there was a playful glint in his eyes, Yumichika wasn’t entirely kidding.

“It’s not so bad. Ichigo has good manners, he knows how to share better than the Captain does. And his…” Ikkaku went silent. Yumichika tilted his head and raised an eyebrow while waiting for his partner to choose a word. Apparently, it wasn’t an easy task because Ikkaku idly scratched his head as he watched Grimmjow make a lap around Ichigo, herding the remaining hollows back closer together. “Grimmjow only steals from Ichigo and it’s a joke for them so it’s all good.”

Ikkaku had opted out of labelling Grimmjow and Yumichika really couldn’t blame him. After all, most of the time they opted out of labelling themselves too. And if Ikkaku had trouble putting their dynamics into words, then taking wild guesses about the nature of a relationship between an arrancar and the hero of Soul Society most likely didn’t come easy. Nor would it be respectful. They had a right to privacy and discretion just like everyone else. Yumichika turned his eyes from Ikkaku to Ichigo and watched as the young man vaporised two hollows in a move that was more afterthought than effort. The boy was still fully focused on the arrancar.

“I swear on Fuji Kujaku, Renji is babysitting next time.” Yumichika swiped dirt from a boulder in a desperate effort to avoid getting dust on his black uniform. Surely it was a fool's quest, but he did so anyway before sitting down. Crossing one slender, elegant, leg over another and he fixed his eyes on the fight still going on.

“Do you think we should-?”

“Ikkaku, they could handle such weaklings in their sleep. We agreed they would take the left flank. You hate it when someone sweeps in on your fight.” Yumichika didn’t give Ikkaku time to finish his question about helping. Although judging from the way the vice-captain was eyeing the hollows, Yumichika knew this was more about Ikkaku being unsated than the man worrying that Ichigo and Grimmjow couldn’t handle things.

“Yeah. But… it doesn’t look like they are concentrating,” Ikkaku protested stroking Hōzukimaru’s hilt absentmindedly with his thumb.

“You mean they are running around like children and have forgotten we have a job to do. I have noticed, but they will get it done soon.” Yumichika corrected as he watched Grimmjow leap backwards, away from Ichigo with an arching back and the grace of a leaping tiger.

“I doubt they tire out at that fast.”

Yumichika had to roll his eyes at the comment. “I didn’t say they will tire out. I said they will get it done,” he raised his hand to point at one of the hollows. It was stalking up on the orange-haired shinigami. “That one is going to try to take a bite out of Ichigo’s shoulder any second now. An attack from the back will make them refocus.”

Perfectly predictable, the hollow bit down. Of course, it would have never succeeded in making any kind of dent. Most likely part of its reishi based body came undone when it clashed so closely with Ichigo’s dense reiatsu. But reflexes are reflexes. The boy turned around, looking hilariously offended that someone had the nerve to interrupt. Grimmjow was the one to lash out violently. The arrancar thrust his sword so hard into the hollow that the impact resulted in the creature getting nailed on the cliff like an ornament. Once the vapour was gone, Grimmjow’s zanpakutō was left there. Stuck in the stone. And an accusing hand was directed at Yumichika.

“You saw it was going for Kurosaki!”

“Yes. And?” Yumichika arched an eyebrow, completely unfazed by Grimmjow’s furious attention. The lack of reaction seemed to infuriate the arrancar even more, but really if there was one thing you became desensitised to in the 11th, it was men who were only capable of expressing their feelings in the manner of violent confrontation.

“And? What the fuck do you mean and?”

“You did a wonderful job in fending it off.” A small smile formed on Yumichika’s lips as he voiced the patronising compliment.

“It was going for Kurosaki! From behind!” The arrancar moved closer to him, but Yumichika just lifted his hand and pointed towards one of the hollows still remaining in the area. It was trying to seek out a weak spot from Grimmjow’s back. Really these things seemed to have no survival instincts. But was it because of stupidity or because they had been modified too much? Yumichika didn’t know and the fact mattered very little at the moment.

“Grimmjow, calm down it’s not like it could have even scratched me.” Ichigo’s voice was soft. From his peripheral vision, Yumichika saw the boy walking towards the zanpakutō set in stone. But his focus never strayed from Grimmjow, who was now ranting while killing off the remaining hollows.

“That’s not the point. I’m not even sure what the fucking point is, but at this point the shitty shinigami owe you more than just staring as something stalks up on-”

“When we are in a fight you two don’t treat like a lek, I will personally dismember anything going for a sneak attack.” Of course Ikkaku felt compelled to answer Grimmjow’s raving accusations, but Yumichika’s attention had shifted away from the feline man. To Ichigo. As Grimmjow drove a bare hand through the last hollow in the clearing, Ichigo reached for the arrancar’s zanpakutō and tore it from the stone.

“What the fuck is a lek? You speak like an old ma- Hey! Kurosaki! I can do that myself. I’m not an invalid. Don’t go around touching Pantera like that.”

Well. There was the answer to Ikkaku’s earlier conundrum. Not that this was a surprise to Yumichika. More like a confirmation that whatever made the pair reek of each other wasn’t just physical. You didn’t randomly pick up your comrades (or casual sexual partners) zanpakutō like that. Even close friends tended to ask before touching. Also, there was the gentle finger that trailed the length of the blade as Ichigo inspected for damage. The movement was filled with familiarity and intimacy, like handling a piece of your lover's soul should be.

“Would a thank you be too much?” The boy asked while handing over the blade and didn’t seem at all surprised when he got no courtesy in return.

“Even looking at your stupid face is too much.” Grimmjow’s words lacked any real bite and his focus was on the blade. The arrancar eyed it like he was worried Ichigo had done something to it. Either to put on a show for their benefit (to make the gesture seem less intimate) or more likely because he just wasn’t quite as comfortable with the touching as Ichigo had been.

“You were pretty worried about my stupid face a minute ago.” There was a self-assured smirk on Ichigo’s face that quite frankly, Yumichika found adorable. Maybe it was because smugness was so unusual for the boy, but it was beautiful when Ichigo both knew his worth and showed it. Clearly, Grimmjow was pleased with what he saw too, because his comeback was even worse than the first insult.

“How many times do I have to say it, I can’t kil-”

“Children, please stop.” Yumichika sighed and stood up, silencing the bickering pair. “Just stop. And when we are back in Seireitei, I will treat you both to some daifuku-”

“I don’t think you can bribe them with sweets like you did her,” Ikkaku whispered and earned a stern look from Yumichika. He really should know better than to bring her up so casually.

“-from my favourite tea house, but only if you stop bickering like an old married couple.” Yumichika finished his offer like nothing was wrong. And in a way, nothing was. It had been years. All of them had learned to live with their grief. Still. Not a day went by that Yumichika didn’t miss those little hands — sticky from sugar — grabbing on to his yukata at bedtime, demanding a song or a story.

“Oh, you mean bickering like you and Ikkaku?” Yumichika found himself seriously reconsidering the attractiveness of Ichigo’s grin.

“Kurosaki, stop. I want daifuku.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” Ichigo claimed the last word before launching into a shunpo back towards the walled city. Grimmjow followed immediately at the boy’s heel and Ikkaku went with the flow because of course he did.

Yumichika found himself alone in the clearing, but he took his time to dust off his shihakushō and smooth his hair. Clearly, none of them had any idea what lengths he went to facilitate for them. Just storming off like that. The three would do well to be reminded that sometimes you had to wait for a good thing.

* * *

_“You aren’t strong enough to kill me, Grimmjow.”_

 _“I know what I promised you. I’m not trying to back out.”_

 _“Fine. Have it your way. No holding back.”_

* * *

Izuru knew that Rangiku-san dragged him to these trips in an effort to cheer him up. He knew it because she had begun after Captain Ichimaru had followed Aizen into Hueco Mundo. At least that was what started the routine. And he had appreciated the distraction even if he hadn’t really enjoyed extended shopping trips to the living world. Rangiku-san and Ayasegawa-san loved them though. The two approached shopping with a strategic nature, debating in length which shops to visit in which order. Not to mention where to stop for refreshments — there were always multiple stops for those — and sometimes Izuru felt exhausted even before they made it out of the dangai.

How lieutenant Madarame put up with it, he never knew. Together Rangiku and Ayasegawa redefined the meaning of high maintenance. But maybe love had something to do with it, because nowadays Hisagi was right there next to Madarame, carrying shopping bags and enduring an endless tirade of trick questions (does this make me look fat? would I look better in the blue one? but do _you_ want to go there?).

So. Sometimes shopping was a welcome distraction, but the more comfortable Izuru became with the sorry remainders of his life… the more shopping became a chore. A routine he followed because it was too tiresome to break it. Too hard to make Rangiku believe that he wasn’t backing out of a date because of depression (and planning not to move from his futon at all until the sun set and he could sleep again). When she thought he was spiralling, Hisagi was the first to know. And then Renji would know. And eventually even Momo, even if they had all silently agreed not to burden her needlessly. Clearly, Izuru and his friends had a very different estimate on where his mental state fell on the scale of important things.

However, today something was different and it fascinated Izuru — as much as anything did, these days. Kurosaki Ichigo was there standing next to Hisagi and Madarame. It was easy to observe them, because none of them saw anything except the two men and one woman venturing further into the shop. It was absurd. Not only to see the way the boy was consumed, how his attention was so very fixed on the _hollow_ in the fake body. It was even more bizarre to see Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Aizen’s former soldier, so interested in things. Tolerating humans and the busy department store, because there were so many things the man wanted to examine closer. To try.

Izuru was almost sure that he was having another psychotic episode. That he was really in a straightjacket and a holding cell. But no one was paying any attention to him and that was normal and surely if this was a delusion — _his_ delusion — he would play a more central part in it. Rather than being the observer. So instead of worrying, for once he enjoyed watching life unfold itself in a most fantastical manner.

Kurosaki-san obviously didn’t enjoy shopping. It wasn’t hard to imagine why. Izuru was sure the boy had been through all the shops in Karakura Town many times. It wasn’t novel to Kurosaki like it was for his arrancar companion and he didn’t relish in the joy of buying like Rangiku and Ayasegawa. Izuru himself had always found it distasteful how freely those two spent their money, but Hisagi had scolded him for saying so out loud. Apparently when you had nothing for so long, it was only natural to want more. Constantly more. It was the same with Renji and food. Maybe Izuru would have been better off too if he had wanted more things. Different things.

He would have definitely been better off if he had just wanted the human device Jaegerjaquez was holding in his hand. If the colours flashing on the tiny screen had enticed and entranced him like they did the hollow. But he didn’t. Instead Izuru wanted the way Kurosaki-san looked at Jaegerjaquez. He wanted that kind of undivided, uncompromised attention. The kind that forced you to hone in on a person even in a crowded store. If Izuru had wanted simpler and more unsophisticated things, he would have surely been better off. But he wanted love.

* * *

_“He is mine. I have never given up the claim.”_

 _“Mine. Prey. You know that that means.”_

 _“Don’t try to make this into some human bullshit.”_

* * *

Nel strummed her fingers nervously on the table ignoring the tea in front of her. Harribel was too calm given the situation. Just sitting there. Sipping her tea like nothing in the world was wrong, but something most definitely was. Unusual at least — out of the ordinary — and warranting an investigation. There was a garganta opening repeatedly in the desert. Nel could feel the ripples in the atmosphere as a tear appeared in the fabric of reality and she knew Harribel felt it too.

“Aren’t you worried?” She couldn’t help but ask. Harribel put down her tea and gave her an unreadable look. Nel was often glad that it was the blond woman who had become the de facto ruler of Hueco Mundo, but sometimes she found herself wishing that Szayel was still around and could build her machine to read Harribel thoughts. Because it was impossible to get anything out of the other woman when she was determined not to give.

“It’s just Grimmjow,” came a terse answer. It was true that it was the most likely scenario. After all, the portal seemed to be appearing in a very specific place. In the far reaches of their world where Ichigo and Grimm trained. And they had been training tonight, before this whole incident began.

“It doesn’t feel like Grimmjow,” Nel argued even if she wasn’t sure if she could accurately feel from such a distance who it was. But Grimmjow was rarely this wasteful with his power and it just made absolutely no sense for him to open a garganta over and over again.

“It’s happening where Kurosaki and Grimmjow last were. Do you think there is an enemy who could have slipped past them? Something Kurosaki couldn’t kill that you will?” Harribel asked and Nel sunk deeper into her seat. She hated when Harribel took that tone with her. That indecipherable coldness made her feel like she was a child getting scolded.

“You can’t know that. There are always bigger, badder, things. It could be a distress signal. They were training. We wouldn’t react to their reiatsu flaring, even if Ichigo was trying to beacon us there.” Nel paused for a moment, biting her lip. “And even if there’s no enemy… What if they had an accident? What if one of them used too much power and now they are both lying in the ground bleeding to death?”

“That’s ridiculous. If they have enough power to open a garganta, they would use it and go see Inoue Orihime.” Well. That was true. It would be the best course of action, especially if someone was gravely injured. Orihime’s powers had no equal when it came to undoing major damage done to bodies, human or spiritual ones.

“What if they are immobilised?” There was a sigh and Nel couldn’t even look at Harribel. She laid her hand down on the cool marble table, stroking it as if to remove some invisible dirt. It was a vain effort to calm herself down. Nel just couldn’t stop the worry. Even as Harribel and her own mind debunked scenarios and labelled them unlikely, more just kept coming. Because this just wasn’t normal. In her entire existence in Hueco Mundo, she never remembered this many gargantas being opened in such a short period. She knew she wouldn’t be calm until she knew what was going on.

“Go then. But please wait until you are outside of Las Noches if you are resurrecting for speed.” The permission came from unwilling lips. Nel knew the only reason Harribel gave her this absolution was because they both knew it was the only way to calm her down. And even if she didn’t need the Queen’s permission to move around in her homeworld, the feeling of embarrassment — the shame of overreacting — would have kept her from rising from this table. But now, having gained an absolution Nel leapt into sonido.

She waited until she was outside of Las Noches before releasing Gamuza. For speed, just like Harribel had suggested — or predicted. She was too worried about what was possibly happening to Ichigo to think too much about proving Harribel right. Another ripple, another tug at the edge of her mind signalled an opening portal. A garganta, but not quite. It wasn’t normal. Something was off. So she sped up, desperately honing in on Ichigo’s reiatsu. Luckily even across the vast desert, it was like a beacon. A signal fire.

Nel wasn’t sure what she expected to find when she finally reached the pair. There were multiple worst-case scenarios in her mind. Anything and everything between a training accident and the emergence of another would-be god. But was not this. Ichigo was the first thing that caught her eyes as she let her gallop fall into a more leisurely trot.

He was standing there, on a high dune, staring up at the starless sky. Like the vast, empty darkness was the most compelling thing he had ever seen. Or maybe the most dangerous one. However, Nel couldn’t sense any enemies and even if she didn’t have a visual on Grimm, she felt his spiritual presence. It wasn’t as untamed as usual, but it was strong and healthy. So, she had no business charging in on the two on full release. Trapping Gamuza back into the form of a zanpakutō didn’t take long. And soon she was approaching Ichigo again, this time on two very human feet.

As she got closer, she could see more clearly the expression on Ichigo’s face. His furrowed brow, annoyance visible in his features. As if the man was trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. “Ichigo!” Nel called out from a distance to alert him to her presence. He was visibly startled when he heard her voice.

“Nel,” Ichigo was surprised — but it didn’t sound like he thought that this was an unwelcome intrusion. “What are you doing here?” He asked and turned to face her. Nel very impolitely ignored the question in favour of taking a good look at the human.

There clearly had been a very bloody spar between Grimmjow and Ichigo. Some wounds on his body were the kind that Nel would have never even thought about inflicting on anyone during what was supposed to be training. But then again, those two never held back. Ichigo and Grimm sometimes fought for hours on end. In all honesty, it was amazing that he was just standing there so calm and collected after what must have been a taxing fight.

“I came to check in on you,” Nel eventually stated and glanced around. “What are you doing here?” She asked, observing their surroundings. Everything seemed like it was the way it should be. Well. Apart from the fact that the area was very dead. But that was to be expected. Smaller hollows had either vacated the premises when the fight began or become collateral damage, vaporised by the released reiatsu and violent attacks that were enough to reshape the landscape itself.

“Training.”

“No. I don’t mean that. We felt you and Grimmjow train. I mean now.” She fixed her eyes on him. “What are you doing?” She asked again. “Where’s Grimmjow?” Nel could feel the other arrancar, but-

“There,” Ichigo said and made a vague gesture towards the slope of the dune. Nel took a few tentative steps to the direction, wary of what she might find. Again. She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting. Maybe a badly wounded Grimm eating an adjuchas to help him heal faster. What she most certainly hadn’t expected though was what she saw. Grimmjow — still in his resurrección — was lying down on the slope, curled up in the sand. Not far from Ichigo, but placed so that there was some protection offered by the dune itself. From what Nel could gather the arrancar was sleeping. Napping. While Ichigo was… what was Ichigo doing?

“Ichigo. Please explain what you are doing here? I was worried.”

“Everything is fine. Grimmjow was just being a little bitch about always having to pick me up when we want to train here or when… you know, I want to visit Rukia, but don’t want t-” Ichigo paused deciding that bringing that up wasn’t the smart thing right now. ”Anyway. That’s not important. The important thing is that I’m opening myself a garganta and hauling my ass back home without any help from ill-tempered morons.”

“He is trying to learn how to open a garganta and failing,” a growl sounded from below them. Grimm was clearly listening in on the conversation, but hadn’t even opened an eye yet. Or moved from his position. “He has been trying for an hour and never gets one big and stable enough to go through.”

“It can’t be difficult if you know how to do it.” Ichigo retorted.

“You are right, Ichigo. It’s really not that difficult. Even the weak low-level hollows know how to open one to enter the world of the living.” Nel said slowly, trying to process all this new information. “Ichigo, if you have been trying for an hour now… maybe you should give up. Maybe you just aren’t hollow enough to open one. Come to Las Noches and I will open a garganta for you once you are rested up.” If Ichigo couldn’t get it right in an hour, then maybe he just lacked the instincts or the right power for it. There was nothing wrong with that. Ichigo wasn’t a hollow like them. Still, Nel couldn’t keep the pity completely out of her voice. Regardless of everything, it was still a bit sad that Ichigo couldn’t do something so basic.

“Did you hear that Kurosaki? Even Nel thinks you aren’t hollow enough?” Grimmjow’s taunting might have been more effective, if the man wasn’t trying so hard to emulate a house cat napping on a windowsill. But even if Nel thought the taunts were lazy, they worked on Ichigo just as intended.

“I’m not hollow enough. Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing? What does that even mean? Not hollow enough.” Ichigo was clearly insulted, but Nel wasn’t sure why. As far as she knew, the boy was proud of being a human.

“What do you think it means? Not hollow enough, means not hollow enough. Maybe you should try one of those prissy senkaimons.” Nel sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. Clearly, Grimm was committed to this course of action. Maybe the sexta had decided that after his nap, he wanted another spar.

“Prissy?”

“Yeah. I said it. The Shinigami are so lazy that they need to use a fancy stabilised dangai so they don’t have to create their footing. Also, it has to be pretty. All doors and shit.” Grimmjow continued and rose to his feet. Nel tried to glare at the man as a warning not to start a fight, but the blue-haired arrancar just ignored it.

“Dude, what the fuck are you on about? Have you ever been inside the dangai? It’s like all purple and slimy and stuff. You know, never mind. I was trying to do something nice, you idiot.” Ichigo was frustrated and not even trying to hide it. It was clear from the way his hands moved as he spoke and how the volume of his voice kept slowly rising. Nel observed the human and wondered if maybe she should have interjected somehow. Try to smooth away the surely escalating conflict. But in the end, she didn’t.

“Nice?”

“So you don’t have to haul my ass across dimensions every time I need a distraction.”

“Maybe I like it.”

“Like it? You said you hated it. A fucking burden, more high maintenance than your ex. I think that’s how you put it.” The mention of Szayel’s brother made Nel shift her attention to Grimmjow and her brow furrowed in confusion. She didn’t recall Yylfordt to be what people would define as high maintenance. As a fracción, the blond should have been subservient to the sexta, even if he had otherwise been filled with annoying bravado. Maybe Ichigo didn’t mean Yylfordt. Maybe Grimmjow had just spouted a random insult without actually comparing the human to anyone.

“Yeah. Maybe I like you having to text me and be all like ‘ _boohoo, come pick me up_ ’.”

“You are a dick. You know that right?”

“Maybe, but you keep begging to take a ride.”

Whoa! Was Grimmjow saying what Nel thought he was saying? Or was that just a reference to the gargantas? She knew that Grimm was always the one to bring Ichigo around. She even knew that Grimmjow sometimes created a gargantas between the Living World and Soul Society — when Ichigo wanted to visit, but didn’t want to go through the permission of opening a senkaimon.

The shinigami often complained about it to Harribel, who in turn complained to Nel and she complained to Ichigo. No one ever complained to Grimm though, because it would have been a waste of time. When Ichigo asked for something, no matter the threats made by her or Harribel, Grimm would oblige.

Ichigo was taken aback by the comment too and lunged into sonido and towards Grimmjow. Livid. The strength of Ichigo’s reaction implied that there was some truth behind Grimm’s taunt. If it was just a tasteless double entendre, Ichigo would have not been so infuriated. Well. The mention of Yylfordt didn’t feel so out of place anymore. Nel watched as Grimm braced for impact and clashed with Ichigo.

What Nel had intended as a good nature conversation had quickly escalated into an argument and now the argument was evolving into… Nel wasn’t even sure what. Maybe another spar between the men? Maybe sex? She was convinced now that the tension between them wasn’t just rivalry. It actually explained so much.

But since neither Ichigo nor Grimmjow had ever even broached the subject with her, she didn’t feel it was her place to comment on it. If Ichigo ever wanted her opinion, he would just ask. And Grimmjow, well. Grimmjow could never force Ichigo to do something against his will. No one could. So there was no way to pretend that if she asked about, it would be for anything other than her curiosity.

“Ichigo,” Nel said with a loud voice watching the pair wrestling and rolling downwards on the dune. There was no reply and neither of the men seemed to even remember that she was still there. “I’m leaving now. If you need me I will be at Las Noches.” She added before pushing herself off the ground and leaving the pair to carry on with their play-fight.

* * *

_“It’s just Grimmjow. You don’t need to worry.”_

 _“That’s really funny. We aren’t even friends. We just… spar for fun.”_

 _“What?! No, he is not hot. Don’t talk like that Karin.”_

* * *

Something bothered Karin when she approached their home. The closer to the house she walked, the stronger the feeling became and by the time she reached the front door, she realised that it was because she sensed an additional spiritual pressure in the house. One that didn’t belong there. The thought made Karin stop in her tracks. She took a deep breath, trying to get a better read of the situation.

Under normal circumstances, she would have just assumed that one of Ichigo’s shinigami friends was visiting. But Ichigo was in London for the semester, taking part in a student exchange program. So, why would have they bothered to visit? And it wasn’t Ichigo either, his brother surely wouldn’t come home unannounced. At least he shouldn’t — her brother should be enjoying his time away from Karakura — and he was, because Ichigo’s presence was nowhere to be felt.

The next logical explanation was that this was Urahara. But that didn’t fit. Karin visited the shop often enough to know the general feel of Urahara’s reiatsu. Even if the man usually wore a gigai to suppress it, the residual energy from all the kidō shielding and other magic used beneath the shop — that had been enough for Karin to learn to recognise the man. And this presence wasn’t Urahara. No. It felt decidedly more… hollow. Not exactly like a hollow, but there was a bitter edge to it Karin had never felt with a shinigami.

She was fooling herself thinking that she would just magically recognise the reiatsu. What was most important was that dad was home. And dad’s presence felt just as muted and calm as it usually did. If there had been real danger in the house, dad would be either out of his gigai or would have used kidō. Which in turn would mean more of her father’s reiatsu saturating the area. But there was no additional energy. So, Karin pushed her key into the lock and entered the house. If goat-face was alright with the visitor, it was probably okay.

“Guys, I’m home!” She announced kicking off her shoes. Not bothering to bend down with a heavy sports bag weighing down on her back, she pushed the shoes lazily with her foot trying to add them into the neat row Yuzu was so fond of. Karin noticed an odd pair of black, well-worn, combat boots mixed in with the more familiar pairs. So. Their visitor was a human. It had better not be one of those fullbringers. Even after all these years, Karin would personally rip out their eyes if they ever dared to show their faces around here again. Ichi-nii might forgive or forget, but she never would. Not after what they did. Not after how they involved Yuzu in it.

“In the kitchen!” Came Yuzu’s reply. Karin seriously wished that one of these days the reply would be something else. Her sister had taken a role as the domestic overlord of their house, but Karin still wished that sometimes Yuzu would just… not. She did believe her sister enjoyed cooking, but she refused to believe anyone enjoyed cleaning. Or cooking every single day. They all should really pitch in more around here. But Yuzu was enabling their laziness and Karin had been too selfish to approach the subject. Maybe once their brother came back, they could have a serious conversation about it. And Yuzu wouldn’t have to handle the entire house on top of handling her own life.

Clearly, tonight’s dinner was still very much work-in-progress because she saw her sister chopping carrots while she was humming along to the music playing from the radio. Yuzu had already set the table though and it was set for four. “Where’s goat-face?” Karin asked as she unceremoniously dumped her bag on the floor. A heavy thump sounded on impact and if dad was here, he would have complained about undue abuse of floorboards. But this floor had been through much worse than the weight of her football gear.

“Don’t call dad that,” at this point, Yuzu’s defence of their father was more an instinctual reaction than actual disapproval of the language Karin used. “He is in the clinic.”

“But the clinic is closed,” Karin said, narrowing her eyes a bit. Dad always kept the clinic closed for the first week in April, to make needed repairs and upgrades. Although, most of the time it was just an excuse of their father to lounge around the house without doing anything real.

“Doing repairs,” Yuzu elaborated as she carefully placed the chopped carrots into a small bowl. She then proceeded to wash the cutting board and knife. If Karin would be the one cooking, she would have just dumped them in the sink. But not Yuzu. No. She cleaned as she cooked. But that was probably why the kitchen never looked like it had been through an explosion after her.

“What repairs?” Karin demanded. As far as she knew there were no major repairs needed and this year's maintenance week was supposed to be a vacation in disguise for dad. The man fooled no one with these things.

“Dad is fixing the sign.”

“What? Alone? That thing weighs a ton. Weren’t they supposed to wait until Ichi-nii comes back?”

“The light broke last night and dad feels like it would be bad for the clinic's reputation to let a broken sign hang on there for months.” Yuzu explained in a calm tone like she was talking to a child instead of her twin sister. It wasn’t Karin’s favourite thing in the world, how sometimes Yuzu acted more like her mother than her sister. But she was sure the girl didn’t mean anything by it, so Karin let the patronising tone pass.

“What reputation?” Karin scoffed and Yuzu just shook her head, disappointed. Although Karin did get the point. It wasn’t like dad could leave a broken sign there. Neighbours might not complain, but they would judge. And it was true that it might give potential customers the wrong idea about the quality of care they would receive in the Kurosaki Clinic. And dad was actually a good doctor, regardless of everything.

“It’s super heavy,” she said, trying not to sound worried. A loud sizzle filled the room as Yuzu dropped onions to a hot pan. “He will get hurt if he tries alone. Did he hire someone to help?”

“No. But Ichi-nii asked a friend to lend a hand.”

“Chad is here?” Karin had been under the impression that Chad was abroad training. But offering to help out around the clinic would totally be a Chad thing to do. Not to mention that out of all Ichigo’s friends, he was probably the only one strong enough to help. Unless Renji was coming over in a gigai, but that seemed a bit too much for just some help with a sign.

“No.”

“Well who is it then?”

“Go see for yourself, you will never believe me if I tell you.”

Well didn’t that sound ominous. “You are just trying to be dramatic.” Karin accused from the hallway as she walked towards the clinic door. Yuzu could have easily told her, but she had to admit that her sister had managed to pique her interest. There really weren’t that many options. Unless it was one of Ichigo’s _new_ and _normal_ friends. There were a few of those her brother had made in uni. But that wouldn’t explain the odd spiritual presence.

Karin could hear two voices coming from the clinic through the door, one belonging to her dad and a one she didn’t recognise. She opened the door and entered without dwelling on it more. It took a moment for her brain to take in and process the scene she walked into. Her father was there, fiddling with the lock of the clinic’s front door and not very far from him was… the blue hollow.

“You,” Karin blurted out. Her voice was harsher than needed. But this was the option that made the least sense. Like Karin would have bet money against this scenario. That the person who had come up to help their dad with such a mundane task was one of those super-soldiers Aizen had created. She got no answer from Jaegerjaquez, but then again… She had only uttered one single word and that had been delivered as more an accusation than a question.

“What are you doing here?” She decided to ask while walking further into the clinic. Her father got the front door open and Jaegerjaquez began moving towards it. The arrancar was carrying two ladders, one on his right shoulder and one on his left.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Have you gone blind or are you just stupid?” Jaegerjaquez didn’t even look at her, which annoyed Karin to no end.

“It looks like you are about to help my idiot father to do some chores,” she crossed her arms and took a stand right at the entryway. Jaegerjaquez passed one of the ladders to her father, who placed it on the ground. Her eyebrows were raised as she leaned against the doorframe and looked at the hollow. “What I can’t figure out is why? Ichi-nii isn’t even in the country, so it’s not like you were visiting him and blackmailed into this somehow by goat-face.”

“She has a brain after all!” Jaegerjaquez declared placing his ladder on the ground. He wasn’t very careful with it and the metal rattled and scraped against the road making Karin wince. “That’s basically what happened. Just got blackmailed by your stupid brother instead of your father.”

“Wait. Are you telling me you were _in London_ visiting my brother and he told you to come here to help dad out with the sign?” That just made no sense. It had to be past midnight in England by now. Wasn’t the time difference around ten hours? Karin couldn’t help shaking her head a little in disbelief.

“Can’t believe it myself either, but here we are.” A terse, dry answer. Karin’s brows knitted together. Why? She was genuinely confused by this. She knew that the arrancar spent some time with her brother. She knew because Ichigo had made sure to tell her that when she felt their reiatsu pulse across the town it was because they were sparring. That there was no need to be worried. And before Ichigo had left, Karin had felt those pulses regularly.

She had also seen Jaegerjaquez in Ichigo’s room from time to time — like all the other spirit guests he didn’t use the door, so it was hard to tell how often the arrancar visited when his brother was home. But it had to be pretty often if they were close enough for Ichigo to convince the man to do something like this.

“Must be true love if you are here,” Karin commented flatly. “If I weren’t related by blood to goat-face, I wouldn’t put up with him even if someone paid me ten million yen,” she continued. When in doubt hide behind snark and sarcasm. It was one of her unwritten rules.

“It really isn’t. Your brother just has the tightest, hottest ass in the three realms. And I don’t get to dick him down before I make sure your old man doesn’t break a leg.” Jaegerjaquez’s words made her father let out a choking sound. Bewildered and gagging on his own spit wasn’t really a good look on Isshin, but then again most of the time dad seemed to aim for maximum cringe.

“Very funny.” The tone of voice had made it clear that the arrancar’s comment wasn’t true. Karin had no idea why her dad had been so shocked. Maybe it was the language. He didn’t want anyone to use such vulgar words in front of his precious girls. If the old man only knew how most kids spoke these days. Karin and Yuzu had been hearing — and reading — worse stuff for years.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me. But Yuzu is making dinner for four, so please make sure you stick around to eat. I will cut off your arm and beat you to death with it if you disrespect her by bailing.”

“Karin!” Her father scolded.

“I don’t eat human food. So, how about I just bail when this thing is done and take Kurosaki a container full of food? You humans like that kind of shit don’t you? Eating familiar things.”

“Someone should tell Yuzu that you don’t eat,” Karin muttered to herself. But actually, the idea was good. If Jaegerjaquez was going to open a dimensional rift to go to London anyway, he could take Ichigo a home-cooked meal while he was at it. Her brother hadn’t had Yuzu’s food in months. Ichi-nii would be elated and it would probably make Yuzu happy too.

“Fine. You can keep your arm.” Her eyes narrowed and she couldn’t resist the opportunity to add in a jab. “Like I said, must be true love.”

“Come closer to say that and I will rip out your windpipe. Carve a nice little flute out of it,” that was no real threat. Even the killing intent the arrancar released with his reiatsu burst was lazy. Lacklustre.

“Original.” Karin rolled her eyes. She didn’t continue this back-and-forth though, because both men were now on their ladders. She could no longer see more than their legs, but she could hear the front of the sign being screwed open. She hoped the neighbours weren’t watching too keenly. Because even if dad and the arrancar were both in gigai, those two would forget to pretend that the sign was heavy for them and it would look odd for them to move it around so casually. So, Karin just turned on her heels and decided to head back in.

The arrancar had to be closer to her brother than Karin had ever thought. Not only was Jaegerjaquez visiting Ichigo in London — but he also was apparently willing to go through a fair bit of trouble just to make Ichigo happy. You only did these kinds of things for close friends. Or maybe for your lover. But Karin didn’t dwell too much on that option. No. In fact, she actively pushed that particular notion out of her head. Ichi-nii just had a habit of making odd friends.

* * *

_“I’m only interested in becoming stronger.”_

 _“Nothing better for that than fighting the most powerful being in the universe”_

 _“What are you trying to imply?”_

* * *

Using the Captain-Commander’s office as a place to host a celebration — or an evening of mourning, if you wanted to see it as such — was something Yama-jii would have never accepted. Shunsui could almost hear his mentor’s scolding voice in his head. But it seemed appropriate for this small crowd. For the people who had been in the frontlines and still standing when it had all been over. For the ones who were left behind to deal with rebuilding. The ones to carry on after two wars had shaken Soul Society to its very core.

Gathering them all here, high above the city seemed fitting. Instead of watching delicate flowers, below they could see Seireitei’s sprawling streets and buildings in all their glory. And beyond it opened the vastness of Rukongai. It seemed more apt viewing than blossoms (even if they would have been in season). There — below, bathed in the summer sun — lay what they had given everything to protect. What their loved ones had died for.

Shunsui glanced around the room. Almost all captains and their lieutenants had come. Only the 12th was absent, Captain Kurotsuchi had announced he had no need for such occasions. Most of the captains were seated with their subordinates and those closest to them. Captain Zaraki was laying on his side near the railing of the balcony. Bathing in the golden sun like a tiger. Lieutenant Madarame was sitting near his captain, next to his former comrade, Captain Iba. The men were silently drinking sake together. Not far from them, Byakuya was seated on a decorated zabuton next to his sister and Renji. The captain of the 6th seemed deep in thought, but the lieutenants were talking in hushed tones.

In the calm of the evening — as a warm, gentle breeze caressed his skin and delicate music filled the room — it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had happened at all. The city opening below them had been rebuilt, no wreckage of war visible. The room was filled with powerful captain-class shinigami — they had nearly managed to replenish the ranks. There was no threat looming over their heads, no disturbance in the balance of things. New routines had formed. Routines that were forced now, but in a decade or two would feel as natural as the ones before. Yes, it was almost easy to pretend.

But even when Shunsui tried his best to bury the deep sorrow etching in his bones, he could not manage it. Because no matter how he pretended, things were not quite the same. As Nanao filled his sake cup, he couldn’t help thinking how in the past she would have complained about his drinking. Instead of quietly serving more. Even the music was a reminder of change.

Before trying to get 3rd seat Ayasegawa to play had been like a game. An endeavour Shunsui had often failed at, even when he had asked on Jūshirō’s behalf. Convincing the man had been a game and a challenge. But this time Ayasegawa had just obliged. And it wasn’t because Shunsui was now the Captain-Commander, Ayasegawa would have had no issues with denying even the most powerful man in the Gotei 13. No. The reason for his docile compliance was something else. It was because of the pain they all shared.

They had all lost so much. Not just in terms of fallen soldiers, but their values and their institutions had been shaken to their core. Even the 11th had suffered a great loss. Shunsui doubted that it was ever discussed within the division, but he knew how much Madarame and Ayasegawa missed the former lieutenant. Shunsui allowed his eyes to travel to Ayasegawa, who was sitting in a seiza behind a koto.

Slender, graceful fingers were plucking the strings expertly and modifying the sound with minuscule movements. The man was truly an artist even if he rarely agreed to showcase his talent. Even Captain Ōtoribashi seemed to think so, the blond man was listening to the music with his eyes closed, clearly enjoying every note. And Shunsui couldn’t blame him. There was such feeling, such melancholy and sorrow in the sounds that it was like Ayasegawa was plucking the notes straight from their battered souls.

Shunsui lifted his sake cup to his lips and took a sip. His eyes trailed the crowd again. Even if most captains had come, many people he had extended an invitation to had not. Yoruichi and Kisuke were both present, but many of the vizored were not. The invited fullbringers had opted not to come as had most of the arrancar. Only Tu Odelschwanck was there, looking as solemn as everyone else. Sitting with Ichigo and his friends.

Shunsui had quite frankly been surprised that it was Tu Odelschwanck who was there and not Jaegerjaquez. Of course, sending someone to this kind of memorial celebration was good diplomatic policy from the Queen of Hueco Mundo. But Jaegerjaquez would have felt like a more natural choice, even if his diplomatic skills left a lot to be desired for.

The former sexta was in Soul Society quite often these days. Ichigo liked to visit his friends a lot and Shunsui had stopped counting the times Jaegerjaquez had trailed along. They just seemed to come as a pair nowadays. Not unlike Madarame and Ayasegawa. Or Shunsui and…

Jūshirō.

He drowned his sake in one go and still Nanao said nothing as she refilled his cup. Shunsui observed how Ichigo looked somehow nervous. A bit out of place. It wasn’t a normal occurrence. Usually, Ichigo fit in so well with the captains and lieutenants that it was hard to remember that the boy wasn’t one of them. Not yet at least, not while he was still a living human. When the boy once more glanced to his left and clearly expected to see something there, Shunsui realised what it was. He realised because that was how he felt so often.

Jūshirō had been at his side for a millennia. They were both soldiers and had both known that one day the other might fall in battle. And regardless of how conceited admitting it might be, in some way Shunsui had always known it would be him, who would be the one left behind to mourn. But still he couldn’t get used to Jūshirō not being there. It was like an open wound. And Shunsui suspected that it would take more than a thousand years to truly get used to the fact that he would never feel Jūshirō’s spiritual presence or touch again.

Shunsui closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, not even bothering to cover up his unusually solemn mood. Luckily for Ichigo, his predicament was only temporary. For now. Ichigo and Jaegerjaquez were both strong. They could both survive a millennia or a two, like Shunsui and Jūshirō had. But one day — one fateful day — there would be an enemy too strong. Someone who would claim Jaegerjaquez and Ichigo would be left to carry on.

In a way Shunsui pitied them. But he also envied them. For all the good years that were still ahead. The passion. The love. If this pain he felt now was the price he paid for having had the chance to love someone so fully, Shunsui paid it willingly. And he was sure Ichigo would too. Anything less would cheapen the memory of what they had been blessed with.

* * *

_“We are just friends.”_

 _“I’m not in love with him.”_

 _“Even if I was it wouldn’t matter.”_

* * *

Considering how excited Kurosaki had been about finally getting his own apartment and moving out of his father’s house, the apartment in question was… underwhelming. Pretty pathetic actually. Calling it an apartment seemed like a lie, when in reality it was more like a closet. Kurosaki had gotten the keys yesterday and had been eager to invite Grimmjow over. He estimated it was the same size as the room Kurosaki had back at his childhood home. Sure there was a tiny bathroom and even tinier kitchen, but all in all, it was nothing to brag about. Especially now when it was practically empty.

There were a few unassembled pieces of furniture — still in cardboard — pushed against the walls, only the futon Kurosaki had slept on last night had been unpacked. The wide mattress was placed right in the middle of the small room and covered most of the hardwood flooring. There were no ceiling lights, no curtains. The only available source of light was the fluorescent tube of the kitchenette and even that was turned off. The apartment was barren enough to echo with every noise they made.

The shinigami was fiddling his phone, not even looking at Grimmjow. He couldn’t decide if it was because Kurosaki was nervous or because he just had trouble choosing the music. He didn’t understand why they were going to be playing music in the first place, he didn’t buy the theory that it would prevent the neighbours hearing anything compromising. _They will just assume there was a party going on._ Grimmjow had kept his mouth shut when Kurosaki had spoken about it, but it felt like this was more for his benefit than the neighbours.

“Are you sure about this?” Grimmjow had to ask, he needed to give Kurosaki the chance to back out of this. Finally, the shinigami seemed to find what he was looking for and a silent beat filled the space. Grimmjow took a few steps towards the wall and concluded that maybe the music did kind of muddle the echoes of his footsteps.

“Yeah,” the man put the phone down on the counter and finally lifted his eyes to face Grimmjow. Nervous. That was definitely Kurosaki’s nervous face and the arrancar allowed himself to stare openly as the other man licked his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Take off your shirt,” Grimmjow ordered and took one final step onward. He lifted his arm above his head and drove Pantera deep into the wall. It pained him a little to use her like this, but there was nothing on the walls that could be used as an anchor. And they needed something secure for this.

“There goes my deposit,” Kurosaki muttered while pulling his shirt off revealing an ample amount of golden skin and toned muscle. Grimmjow allowed a feral, predatory, grin to surface on his face. Just eased on the self-restraint — gave in just a bit — and everything came flooding in. _The need_. Even after all these years Kurosaki still looked and smelled good enough to drive him insane. So good Grimmjow didn’t always know if he wanted to be with Kurosaki or become one with him.

Grimmjow beckoned the man with a slow flick of his wrist. Tempting. Inviting him closer and Kurosaki complied. Of course he did. This was something the shinigami wanted. Something he had brought up multiple times during the years, but there never had been a place secure enough for it. But now in his brand new apartment, Kurosaki seemed to be convinced that no one would interrupt them. No nosy siblings, no wandering hollows, no shinigami butting in.

“Extend your arms behind you back,” Grimmjow didn’t know shit about things like this. Well. At least in the context everything was about to be applied in. He did know how to rig someone up for interrogation or torture. He knew how to set-up strappado, but this would be different. Obviously. Grimmjow moved so he was standing straight behind Kurosaki.

“Are you sure about this?” Repeating the question made him sound unsure and nervous. He hated it. But Grimmjow still couldn’t believe the amount of trust Kurosaki was going to be extending him. The man seemed more convinced that he could pull this off than Grimmjow himself did.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Kurosaki turned his head back and looked at him. Despite the nervous edge, there was determination in the shinigami’s voice. This was what the man wanted. “Grimm, just do the binding.”

Grimmjow took a firm grip of Kurosaki’s shoulder and squeezed it a little. It was incredible how hot the skin beneath his fingers felt. “You can’t put much weight on your arms. Remember that. This isn’t some cute, fluffy handcuff thing. You lean in too far, you’re going to dislocate your shoulders.” It should have been obvious, but occasionally Kurosaki was too dumb for his own good. And Grimmjow didn’t want this to be one of those times.

“I know. I know. I’m not…” Not in your spirit form, Grimmjow wanted to say. This would have been safer that way. Even Kurosaki’s human body was still a human body. Grimmjow always needed to be mindful in handling him when the shinigami was strapped into his bones.

“This is a fucking torture technique,” Grimmjow moved his hand away from the man’s shoulder and let his finger run through the coarse orange hair. He fisted his hand and pulled Kurosaki’s head back. “I’m not sure I know how to make it safe,” the arrancar leaned in to whisper and nipped the orange-haired man’s earlobe with his teeth.

Grimmjow should have just read the book that Kurosaki had tried to slip him. Instead of just brushing it off. _I don’t need a manual on how to fuck rough. You think that I don’t know how to force someone into submission?_ What stupid comments those had been. Because right now — when the prospect of accidentally causing Kurosaki bodily harm was so real — those manuals would have been welcome. Surely humans had come up with some safer shit for all this.

“Grimm. Just do it. Please.” _Please_. There was such desperation in Kurosaki’s voice that Grimmjow thought the man didn’t really want safer. And that was all fine with him. Just. Not with this weak human body. This supple meat. It had too much of a chance to break by accident. Grimmjow hated all of these uncharacteristic reservations he had. Kurosaki was turning him into such a pussy.

Fuck this. Kurosaki was already begging and was stronger than anything else in the three realms. He wouldn’t break from something like this. Even if everything went wrong, there would be no permanent damage. Not with healing kidō and Orihime’s fucking time turning. Grimmjow kissed the nape of Kurosaki’s neck before straightening his back and directing his full attention to the task at hand.

The arrancar fixed his gaze to the stretched out arms. He reaches out, tracing the muscles in Kurosaki’s arms idly with his fingers, while concentrating on gathering enough reiryoku to form strong restraints. The first set of bindings wrapped around Kurosaki’s forearms, tying them together and coiling like snakes around each bicep. The glowing, electric blue ropes didn’t force the upper-arms together, but were tight enough to make sure Kurosaki couldn’t flex his muscles without feeling the restraints pushing back.

It had been a long time since Grimmjow had used binding techniques. Unlike the shinigami, the arrancar didn’t have an infinite number of different spells. This was very basic. Nothing more, nothing less than his reiatsu formed into an unbreakable rope. It had been useful for hogtying traitors and deserters to drag back to Aizen. Back when Grimmjow was forced to do grunt work like that.

For a moment Grimmjow just allowed Kurosaki to get used to having his arms restricted. He could see tensing muscles as Kurosaki tested the bindings. Grimmjow had used a very high amount of reiatsu to make them. Nothing that Kurosaki couldn’t break if he tried — if he really panicked — but enough hold through this. They couldn’t be too weak, otherwise they would have corroded when exposed to the reiatsu leaking from the shinigami. While Kurosaki was getting used to the feeling, Grimmjow spent time trailing his lover’s neck and shoulders with kisses. Sometimes nipping the skin, sometimes licking like he was tasting an imaginary wound.

Grimmjow could hear Kurosaki’s heartbeat. It was steadily rising and his breathing was getting deeper. Heavier. The shinigami was clearly finding this all highly arousing. So the arrancar stepped to the side and took hold of Kurosaki’s bound wrists. Slowly raised the heavy, bound arms lifting them towards the wall and the bound man’s head. Grimmjow really couldn’t push them very far without risking dislocating the shoulders. So he spent a moment trying to find the right placement.

When Grimmjow found the spot, he looped another reishi-rope around Kurosaki’s wrists. It merged with the existing ones. With a fluid movement of his hand, Grimmjow then stretched the strand out. Extending the rope until he could fling it up to Pantera’s hilt. Directed by his will and movement of his hand, they wrapped around it and before fusing into the tsuba. A burst of energy ran from the sword down through the ropes. The arrancar could see how Kurosaki shivered. Once the test was complete, Grimmjow knew that Pantera would hold the bindings until Grimmjow would undo it all. Everything was secure.

It was quite a sight. Kurosaki stood there, in the middle of an empty room, illuminated only with only moonlight and the blue glow of the ropes. The man was bent forward, almost in a 90-degree angle at the hips. Upper-body entirely exposed. If he wanted, Grimmjow could have easily pretended that he had defeated the shinigami who was now at his mercy. Kurosaki was already testing how much he could lean in. How much the arms could take before it hurt too much. The arrancar moved closer and placed his hand to the exposed back, just between Kurosaki’s shoulder blades.

“You know… if I pushed down a little, both of your shoulders would just… pop out of their sockets.” Grimmjow mused and pressed down a little. Not enough to actually shift Kurosaki’s weight and force him down. But enough that Kurosaki felt pressure, felt an uncomfortable stretch towards an unnatural position. It gave his words more impact. Made the illusion of being powerless more real.

“You would never do it.”

“I have tried to kill you multiple times,” he hummed and ran his hands along Kurosaki’s spine. Lower and lower towards the waistband of those tight-fitting jeans. Grimmjow reached around the shinigami’s hips and opened the buttons before he pulled the pants gently down.

“This is different,” Kurosaki whispered as the arrancar ran his hands over the now bared legs. From the ankles up to the round ass still covered by the thin fabric. Not that Kurosaki’s underwear left much to the imagination. Grimmjow pulled them down just enough to reveal more smooth skin and firm muscle. “This is different,” Grimmjow confirmed and placed a kiss on the shinigami’s lower back.

“You would never let anyone hurt me. If something attacked us right now, I wouldn’t even need to get out of the restraints. You would cero the intruder before it even could glance at me.”

“I would fry that bitch,” Grimmjow murmured against Kurosaki’s warm skin. If someone dared to intrude in a moment like this, he wouldn’t just shoot a cero. He would rip out their heart with his bare hands. Grimmjow pulled the boxers down and allowed his hands to caress the body of his lover.

“You don’t need me to fight your battles for you. If I wanted. If I really, _really_ , wanted, I could never touch Zangetsu again. And you would fight for me, you would fight for my family.” There was an edge of fervour in Kurosaki’s voice when he spoke that had nothing to do with arousal. That emotional intensity had once confused and frightened Grimmjow.

“If you wanted that, I would tear the limbs from anyone who would try to draw you back into the shinigami shit.”

“I could choose no more war.”

“You can choose no more war,” Grimmjow echoed. Emotions were still hard for him and sometimes reading Kurosaki was like working a Rubik’s Cube. But this particular puzzle Grimmjow had solved. The first time the man had spoken about these things, Grimmjow had been taken aback. Because Kurosaki could never stay on the sidelines while others fought. It just wasn’t in his nature. But through the years the arrancar had realised that what was important was _the choice_. The knowledge that after the wars and the responsibilities — of shouldering the weight of the world — there was an out. Even if Kurosaki would never take it. “I have enough power for both of us. Even if you choose never to use yours again.”

“I love you. I fucking love you, Grimmjow.”

“Yeah. I know.” He muttered as he reached for the bottle of lube next to Kurosaki’s foot. “I love you too.”

* * *

In hindsight, there were so many things Grimmjow should have heard. Should have felt. But when he was almost at his peak — thrusting into Kurosaki’s shivering and moaning body, feeling tight muscles constricting around him — his universe was contracted into a pin-prick. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Nothing but Kurosaki. That’s why he didn’t hear the hushed voices or the footfalls. That’s why he didn’t feel the approaching mass of multiple strong spiritual pressures.

Not until it was too late.

Not until a key turned in the lock.

Turned out Kurosaki was right. Grimmjow’s first instinct was to blast a cero towards the door. It happened faster than he could think. Before things like; _they can’t see Kurosaki like this_ and _Kurosaki will never forget this_ could even take form in his head. The cero was pure instinct and the destructive power in it reckless to use in a human neighbourhood at the outskirts of Tokyo. The cero didn’t land on its mark, but got deflected and burst through the window shattering it. The split-second between Grimmjow firing off the cero and its blinding glow dissipating were enough for the reality of the situation to sink in. To induce panic. Both in him and in Kurosaki, who now seemed to be aware of what was happening.

It was probably the first time in his life Grimmjow was so distressed that he couldn’t differentiate between the reiatsu signatures he was familiar with. The only one he could pick out — the only one that had been registered in his brain as always worth knowing, always worth locating — was Orihime’s. Being able to recognise her in a split second could someday be the deciding factor between life and death — either for Kurosaki or for himself. So she was the one he could pick out. The one he called out to.

“‘Hime, get them the fuck out! NOW!” Grimmjow bellowed out the order as he pulled out and pushed off Kurosaki as fast as he could. At that moment Kurosaki cried out in pain. Real pain. Grimmjow had used too much force pushing himself away. It was the shoulder. It was the fucking shoulder! As fast as he could, Grimmjow undid the bindings. A snap of his fingers and all the reiatsu disappeared.

“Fuck. Kurosaki, Kurosaki..” Grimmjow lounged forward to support the shinigami now that he no longer had anything to lean on. “Talk to me.”

“The left one.” Was the only reply Grimmjow got.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He helped Kurosaki down on the futon. The situation had to be mortifying for him. Grimmjow had no idea who had been there, but it had been multiple people. He had no idea what was the extent of what they saw. Did they see the saviour of the realms in such a compromised state? Bound up and fucked raw by an abomination. And the pain. The dislocated shoulder in a human body. That had to hurt. This was bad.

Grimmjow couldn’t help running his hands frantically over Kurosaki’s back and his good arm. It was supposed to be soothing. But when Kurosaki grabbed his wrist, Grimmjow realised that maybe it wasn’t having the intended effect. “Grimm. Calm down.”

“I am calm.” Lie. “Let’s pop the shoulder back in.” It felt like the only concrete thing he could do for Kurosaki right now. After that, he could hunt down everyone who saw them and rip out their tongues, so they would never speak about this.

The reduction was over quickly. This wasn’t the first time Grimmjow had put a dislocated joint back in. And it appeared this wasn’t the first time Kurosaki had been treated for it either. It didn’t surprise him. The physical injury was the easy part in all this. The thing they could have just shrugged off and moved past. What Grimmjow wasn’t so sure about was the breach of trust. Granted, he had no fucking clue why those people had decided to show up. He had no idea where they got a key from. But it still felt like he had let the man down. Like he had failed to do the one thing Kurosaki expected from him at a time like this.

As they sat there, naked and in silence, Grimmjow became more and more convinced about it. That he had fucked up. He should have said no when Kurosaki asked for this. He should have said no. Fuck. Grimmjow ran his hands through his hair. Kurosaki’s breathing was starting to even out. He didn’t smell so much like pain and fear anymore. The panic was dying down, but the look on the man’s face was blank. Like Kurosaki wasn’t even here. Shit.

“If you want, I will hunt them down, kill them and then we can pretend this never happened.” It was a bad attempt at a joke and only gained Grimmjow a deadly glare from Kurosaki. The arrancar closed his eyes and bunched his hands into fists in his hair — pulling on it in frustration. This had backfired on them in such epic proportions it would have been funny if Grimmjow wasn’t aboard the crashing train.

“Hey, talk to me Kurosaki. I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” Silence. “Ichigo. Just talk to me. _Please_.” Nothing. Fuck. Anger was starting to raise its head in Grimmjow. Anger was so much easier than fear. Than uncertainty. Than guilt. The upbeat music still playing from Kurosaki’s phone felt like it was mocking him. And Grimmjow wanted to blow it away with another cero.

“Where’s my phone? I need to text ‘Hime.” It was the comment that eventually broke Kurosaki’s silence. So not knowing what else he could do, Grimmjow stood up and fetched the phone.

What Kurosaki eventually found out was that the group had been there to pick him up for a surprise birthday party. His friends had borrowed a spare key from the landlord for that purpose. When Kurosaki had told everyone he just planned to enjoy some peace and quiet on his birthday, no one had thought it was code for this. They had just assumed that the man didn’t want to make a fuss about himself and had tried to do something nice.

Yeah. Well. That too had backfired with epic proportions. Like Grimmjow's attempt to do something nice for Kurosaki. Maybe the most unbelievable thing in this whole sorry scenario was the fact that they were apparently still going to the party. It seemed messed up. Counter-intuitive. If Kurosaki had just been humiliated in front of his people, he should have been taking the opportunity to calm down somewhere. Not go to a surprise party just so he wouldn’t disappoint anyone.

Because Kurosaki most definitely wasn’t going because he wanted to. That much was clear from his presence. Walking beside the man Grimmjow felt like he was walking someone to their execution. The silence weighed heavy between them, even though normally they could be comfortably silent together. But not anymore it would seem.

Urahara’s storefront was dark and it looked like no one was there. The people were clearly still committed to their surprise party concept. It wasn’t until they entered when lights popped up and the kidō hiding the people dissipated. “Surprise!” The yell was enthusiastic and as Grimmjow watched the crowd gathered there it made a bit more sense that Kurosaki had insisted on coming. There were tens of people around. Starting from the man’s family to almost every shinigami and vizard and fullbringer and arrancar with whom Kurosaki was acquainted with. There was no way all these people had seen and not showing up would have just alerted them that something was wrong.

Studying the crowd, Grimmjow completely missed the look on Kurosaki’s face. He also didn’t see the hand coming before it wrapped around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Right there. In front of _everyone._

“The important ones know now anyway,” Kurosaki whispered to his ear when breaking the kiss. “No need to hide anymore.”

“Yeah.” Grimmjow sighed in agreement. Relief washing over him felt cool and soothing. This meant that whatever had transpired tonight, it wasn’t so bad that they couldn’t be saved. Kurosaki wouldn’t be making this kind of a public declaration otherwise. “We don’t need to hide anymore.” He repeated before leaning into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> A **lek** is a form of courtship dance where male birds gather to engage in competitive displays to entice a mate.


End file.
